this remarkable ride
by flowermasters
Summary: Working for S.H.I.E.L.D leads to a lot of injuries, but life's not all bad. AU.


A/N: This is a shamelessly fluffy AU where no one ever got frozen for seventy years. I just needed to get this out.

Warnings: non-Capsicle AU, mentions of off-screen violence, fluff, discussions of a potential miscarriage.

Title inspired by a line from 'How Long Will I Love You' by Ellie Goulding.

* * *

The radio crackles for the umpteenth time that day, reception cutting in and out, and Steve mutters a low curse and gives it a good smack. Well, it's more of a tap, really; _a good smack_ from his hand would crush the radio and that wouldn't help in the least. Hitting the damn thing at all is childish of him, he knows, but it makes him feel a tiny bit better to do it.

The audio comes back on a second later, and Steve has apparently missed something important in the game, because the broadcaster sounds positively jubilant. Steve's back to listening quietly when he hears a lock click in the other room, followed by the sound of the front door opening and then, the soft tapping of Peggy's heels on the floor as she approaches.

His wife appears in the doorway to the living room a second later, and leans up against the door frame, arms crossed loosely over her chest. "Aren't you supposed to be in bed?" she asks, a smile toying with the corners of her lips.

"Well, I was," Steve says, "but the game just started."

"Ah, yes," she says. "The game." Peggy doesn't care much about baseball - or American sports in general, really - but Steve's pretty sure she finds his investment in it to be endearing, though she's never said as much.

Steve reaches out to turn down the volume on the radio, but he moves too quickly, and a sharp pain shoots through him. He tries to hide his wince, but Peggy is the farthest thing from a fool he's ever known, and she doesn't buy it. "You really should be in bed," she says, crossing the room to where he sits in the most comfortable chair they own (a well-loved armchair.) "Superhuman abilities or not, Steve, you're not indestructible."

"I know," Steve says, a bit strained as the pain in his back ebbs. Peggy pets his hair soothingly. "Believe me, I know." The pain in his back is proof enough of that. But although he might not be indestructible, he's certainly fortunate; any other man would be dead after being knocked from a three story building by a terrorist's grenade and hit by a car seconds later, but Steve had come away from the encounter with a terribly sore back and some bruising and scraping. The cuts and bruises are no problem, but he's on strict orders not to show up for anything less than the apocalypse until he can walk properly.

It's then that Steve notices that Peggy is still holding her purse, and she hasn't taken off her coat, which is typically the first thing she does when she comes in. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what's behind the change in routine. "Are you going back to HQ?" Steve asks, trying not to sound as morose as he feels at the thought.

Peggy has the decency to look slightly guilty about it. "Yes," she admits. "I've got some reports to finish up and then a meeting, and after that I'll come home. I just wanted to check on you."

Steve supposes he should be grateful that she's come all this way just to check up on him, but he can't help but wish she'd stay. He's been going stir-crazy all day with nothing important to do and no one around for company. Steve has spent far too much time in his relatively short life stuck on bed-rest, and it's never gotten any easier for him. But rather than act like a petulant child, Steve forces a smile. "You know, you're getting to be almost as bad as Howard."

"No one is as bad as Howard," Peggy says, eyebrows raised.

"You're right," Steve concedes. "At least you're consistent." Peggy might work insanely long hours, but she does it on a regular basis. Howard will be at HQ all day every day for a week, living off of black coffee and napping at his desk, and then disappear without warning, off to recuperate in some exotic locale. Without fail, he'll return a few days later, sunburned and hungover, and the cycle will continue. It might be endearing if Steve didn't worry so much for Howard's health.

Peggy smiles and bends down to kiss his cheek. "'Consistent'," she repeats, her lips brushing his jaw. "Such flattery, Captain."

Steve tilts his head and catches her lips before she gets the chance to move away. Once their lips part, Steve considers pleading for her to come home early, but he knows Peggy well enough to know that she'll only be satisfied if her work for the day is done. They're the same in that respect, really - which explains why Steve is getting cabin fever after only a day of being locked up. Steve settles for a quiet, "Come home soon."

Peggy gives him a soft look. "I will," she promises. "But in the meantime, get some more rest." A sudden smile crosses her face then, and she adds, "Oh, and by the way - when I come back, I've got a surprise that might cheer you up."

Steve gives her a curious look. "Is it a surprise, or a . . . _surprise_?" They're still pretty newly wed, after all, and a 'surprise' can mean a lot of things. Steve is understandably rather intrigued.

Peggy looks amused, but she doesn't offer up any hints. "You'll find out," she says enigmatically, and then she presses another quick kiss to his mouth before straightening up and heading for the door.

Steve smiles, feeling temporarily too affectionate to be sour about her departure. "I love you," he calls after her.

"I love you, too," she responds, and a moment later, Steve hears the front door shut behind her.

Now that Peggy's gone, Steve's back to listening to the game and feeling like the walls are slowly closing in on him. He's been on two missions in as many weeks, and he's having trouble switching immediately from constant activity to complete and total inactivity. But at least now he has Peggy's return to look forward to, so he's in a better mood than before.

The game ends before Peggy gets home, and Steve reads the newspaper (well, rereads) for a while before nodding off in the armchair, somehow sleepy despite the fact that he's done nothing productive all day. The sound of the phone ringing jolts him awake immediately, and with a heavy sigh, he rises stiffly to his feet and walks slowly and gingerly across the room to answer it. He glances at the clock over the mantle, noting how late it's getting - this must be Peggy on the phone, calling to tell him that something came up at S.H.I.E.L.D and she's about to be on her way home.

"Hello?" Steve says, more out of habit than anything.

"Steve," says someone decidedly _not_ Peggy. It's Howard, and he sounds rather anxious. That tone could mean anything from 'the end is near' to 'I'm on my fifth cup of coffee' with him. "You need to get to the hospital."

"What?" Steve blurts. "Why?"

"It's Peggy," Howard says, and Steve abruptly feels like he's just swallowed an icicle. "She's been attacked."

"By who?" Steve asks, trying very hard not to panic. He needs to be in Captain America mode right now, always capable and calm under pressure, but instead he just feels like Steve Rogers, scared and confused. "How badly is she hurt? Where is she?"

"An undercover agent she was meeting up with," Howard says, answering Steve's questions almost as quickly as they're asked - definitely a sign that he's had too much coffee. "The bastard's gone rogue, apparently, but he's been apprehended. I know you'll want to deal with him personally, but I figured you'd want to see Peggy first. She's at George Washington University Hospital."

Howard is right - Steve plans on seeing this rogue agent for himself very soon, but the need to ensure that Peggy is okay overrides anything else for the time being. Steve has the presence of mind to thank Howard for the call before hanging up the phone. He makes himself look presentable in thirty seconds flat, which is pretty impressive given how sore he is right now, and he's out of the apartment within a minute. Military discipline plus superhuman speed really comes in handy at times like this.

Steve catches a cab to the hospital, and spends the entire drive staring out the window and nervously clenching and unclenching his fists. He's considering the idea of just running all the way to the hospital - it would be faster than sitting in traffic - but the twinge of pain in his back every time he shifts too quickly makes that idea an impossibility.

The driver has barely stopped the cab at the hospital before Steve opens the car door and gets out. He thanks the cabbie quickly and hands him some money through the open driver's side window before walking into the building as quickly as he's physically able to. Predictably, there's a line of people waiting at the front desk, and Steve has to wait just like everybody else, although he's pretty sure any of the people in front of him would offer up their spot in line to Captain America if they actually recognized him in civilian clothing.

Finally, Steve reaches the nurse manning the desk, and before she even gets a chance to ask what his emergency is, he says, "I'm looking for my wife - Peggy Carter Rogers. Can you tell me where she is?"

The nurse checks the sheaf of papers in front of her, and then clarifies, "Margaret?" Their wedding day has been, until this point, the only time anyone's ever called Peggy by her real name in front of Steve, but it's still technically her name, of course. Steve nods, and the nurse directs him down the hall and to the left. "You know, you look a lot like Captain America," she adds suddenly, as Steve turns to walk away. "Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Once or twice," Steve says, and he does his best to hurry off before anyone else decides to take a closer look at him.

He goes down the hallway the nurse had indicated to him, but as he's rounding the corner, he nearly runs into a doctor. Steve sidesteps him with ease, although he winces slightly while doing it. "Sorry," he says automatically, and he's about to rush off when he catches sight of the clipboard the doctor is holding, and realizes with a start that the paperwork has Peggy's name on it. "You're Peggy's doctor? Can you tell me if she's okay? I'm her husband."

The doctor pushes his glasses farther up on the bridge of his nose and peers at the papers on his clipboard. "Ah, you must be Steven. Well, I'm sure you'll be happy to hear that your wife is alright. She's fairly banged up, and she's got two lacerations which required stitches, but it's nothing major. She assured me that the car looks much worse than she does."

Steve takes that in stride - Peggy must have told them all that she'd been in a car accident. It's much easier to deal with than having to explain the truth, after all. The doctor continues, "There's also been no sign of miscarriage, so she should be -,"

That certainly gets Steve's attention. "I'm sorry?"

The doctor misreads Steve's confusion, clearly thinking he simply misheard. "I said there's been no sign of miscarriage. The baby's fine."

"The baby," Steve repeats blankly, too stunned to come up with anything else. "I think there must be a mistake."

"No, no mistake," the doctor says, shaking his head and pointing to the clipboard. "The first thing she asked about when she got here was whether or not I thought her baby would be alright."

Steve doesn't say anything for a moment, still trying to process this information, and the doctor gives him a well-meaning pat on the shoulder. "Go to her," he says, rather delicately now that he's realized Steve's confusion stems from the fact that he doesn't know anything about this supposed baby. "She's probably waiting for you."

Steve nods and heads on his way, remembering his reason for being here. He comes to an area where several cots are lined up in orderly rows; most are empty, but in the farthest corner of the room, Steve spots Peggy, sitting upright on a cot with her back to him. He hurries across the room as quickly as he can, all thoughts momentarily forgotten except his need to find out that she's alright. "Peggy," he manages, rounding the corner of the bed she's sitting on.

She starts slightly at his sudden appearance, but then her face breaks into a relieved smile. "It's about time, soldier," she says, somehow managing to sound perfectly casual despite the fact that she's sitting in an emergency wing of the hospital, clearly bruised and battered. Her crisp white blouse is stained with blood, and both of her sleeves are rolled up to reveal a bandage wrapped tightly around her left forearm. There's another bandage on her chest, visible just above the neckline of her shirt. Steve assesses all of this in the split second it takes him to make it to her and wrap her carefully in his arms.

"Are you alright?" Steve asks, pulling back slightly so that he can look at her face. There's a particularly nasty bruise blooming over her left eye, he notes. "You scared the hell out of me, Peggy."

"I'm alright, I promise," she says. "Agent Clark looks worse."

"I'd be disappointed if he didn't," Steve says absentmindedly, as he gently pulls aside the collar of her shirt, made stiff with dried blood, to look at the bandage on her chest. "He didn't _stab _you, did he?"

"No," Peggy replies. "Well, he did _cut_ me. But there was absolutely no stabbing."

"What about here?" Steve asks, indicating her arm.

"This is the worst of the two," she says. "He got me here when he knocked me to the floor."

"Tell me the whole story," Steve says pleadingly, unable to bear not knowing what had happened any longer.

Peggy sighs as if he's worrying over nothing, and Steve resists the urge to point out that he's spent the last twenty minutes in crisis mode with very little information. "Agent Clark asked me for a meeting, off the record," she says. "His behavior has been - a little unusual for some time now, so I agreed. Apparently, he's either turned traitor or gone mad. I suppose we'll find out which soon enough."

Steve can't help but zero in on _off the record _and _unusual behavior. _"Wait a minute," he says, "did you have any idea this guy could be dangerous?"

"Well, sort of, but I -,"

"And you met with him anyway? Without telling anyone?" Steve surmises, his brow furrowing as he regards her closely.

"I did tell you I had a meeting, if you'll recall," Peggy points out.

"You didn't mention a name!" Steve argues in a low voice, cognizant of the fact that they are in a public place discussing something with a confidentiality level that has yet to be determined. "Or the fact that he might try to kill you!"

"Well, I had no real reason to think he'd try to hurt me," Peggy says, rather hotly. "Only my own suspicions after reading some of his reports. I didn't want to worry you for nothing. And unfortunately for Agent Clark, I made it my policy to bring a gun to a knife fight tonight, just in case. So it's not like I was being reckless."

Steve is still angry about Peggy's decision to play around with her safety tonight, but gradually, he grows calmer. Peggy is the most capable person he knows; her attacker might have injured her, but he clearly suffered in kind, _and_ she managed to keep him alive so he'll have to deal with the consequences. When Steve isn't quite so stressed out over the fact that she's hurt at all, he'll probably be proud. "I'm sorry," he says finally. "I was just so worried about you."

"I know," she says, her expression softening. "But you don't have anything to worry about now." She kisses his cheek lightly, and then says, "Now, let's go. They didn't want me to leave alone, but now you're here, so they _have_ to let me go."

She's clearly ready to go home, and ironically so is Steve, but first there's one more thing he's got to know, now that he's verified that Peggy is mostly okay. He doesn't think he can wait until they get home to bring it up, either, so he might as well do it now while they have a modicum of privacy. "Peggy," he says, gently grabbing her uninjured arm before she can get down from the cot. She gives him an expectant look, and Steve hesitates briefly before asking, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"About Clark?" she asks. "I told you, Steve, I knew you'd worry so I -,"

"No," Steve says, shaking his head. "About the baby."

Peggy stops mid-sentence, giving him a look reminiscent of a deer caught in headlights. She quickly composes herself, however, and asks slowly, "How did you know?"

"The doctor told me," he replies. "So - it's true?"

Peggy nods. Her expression is one of calm, but it's a front - Steve can see the nervous energy in her eyes, the uncertainty. "Well, how do you feel about it?" she asks, a beat later.

Steve is more surprised than anything at the moment; this certainly isn't planned, and this is a fairly unusual way to find out, all things considered. Half of him had still been expecting it to be some sort of mistake until Peggy's confirmation. But then, the reality of it all finally starts to dawn on him. A _baby_. They made a _baby_. A child made half of him and half of the most beautiful, brave, intelligent woman in the world.

Peggy's voice pulls him out of his thoughts. "Steve?" she prompts gently, and he meets her eyes again. "Are you - happy about it?"

"How could I not be?" Steve asks, and he's only slightly embarrassed by the emotional way his voice cracks. "Of course I'm happy. I'm so happy, Peggy."

Peggy practically lights up, and much to his surprise, she starts tearing up, too. Peggy's not generally very weepy (he'd cried more than she had on their wedding day, as the Commandos frequently liked to remind him) but she's crying now. "Good," she says. "I'm happy, too."

Steve, smiling like a fool, gently wipes a tear from her cheek with his thumb. The gesture reminds him of something, and he asks, "Wait, is the baby the reason you started crying when you dropped that plate last week? Hormones?" At the time the incident had simply confused him, but in context, it makes a bit more sense.

Peggy chuckles through her tears. "Yes. I didn't know it at the time - I found out that afternoon - but yes. And besides, that plate was one of the ones Howard gave us as a wedding present," she says. "The ones that are probably worth more than our car."

Steve laughs at that, but then sobers slightly. Peggy had known for over a week now, and it took her nearly getting killed for him to find out? "When were you planning on telling me?" he asks, as gently as possible. He doesn't want to ruin the moment by insinuating that she should have told him sooner but, well, she should have told him sooner.

"Well, I didn't want to tell you before you left for Europe," she explains, "because I wanted us to have time to talk about it. But then you went and got yourself _thrown off a building and hit by a car_, so I wanted to wait a little longer and make things special for you." She sniffles, wiping away the last of her tears. "I had everything planned out and then that bloody idiot had to ruin the night and try to kill me."

Steve smiles reassuringly at her. All in all, that's a much better reason for not telling him than he could have expected. Honestly, he's rather touched by it. "Don't worry, he'll be dealt with soon," Steve assures her. "And he didn't ruin anything. Nothing - and I mean nothing - could ruin this."

Peggy smiles at that, and then she kisses him. Steve sort of forgets that they're in public for several seconds, until a loud _ahem_ breaks them apart.

Steve looks over sheepishly to see a nurse standing at the foot of the bed, tapping her foot impatiently and holding a clipboard. "If you're quite finished," she says to Peggy rather briskly, "then you can go home. But you should rest for a few days, until you're feeling up to snuff."

Peggy looks like she wants to argue with that idea, but she holds her tongue. Steve smiles at her, affectionate, as the nurse trots off. "So," he says, as he takes her by her uninjured arm and gently steadies her while she gets down from the cot. "It looks like it's your turn for bed-rest."

Peggy shoots him a look. "Who says you're allowed to be _off_ of bed-rest?" she asks. "Besides, I don't need it. I'm fine."

Steve raises his eyebrows at her, linking their arms loosely as they make their way towards the exit. "If I have to stay home, it only makes sense that you need to, too. You got _stabbed_, Peggy."

"Do I need to remind you that you got _hit by a car_?"

"Not really," Steve says, as his back gives another painful twinge. "Besides, you ought to be at home, anyway. Now that there's a baby on the way and all."

Peggy gives him a look that's half surprised, half offended. Before she gets a chance to start explaining to him in detail exactly why that statement is ludicrous, Steve breaks into a grin and says, "I'm joking, by the way."

Peggy feigns irritation, but he can see the twinkle of affection in her eyes. "I should hope so," she says loftily, "because come hell or high water, I plan on being at HQ every day until the baby gets here."

Steve gives a slightly exasperated sigh, but leans over to give her a kiss on the cheek anyway. "That's my girl."


End file.
